The Ninja, The Samurai and The Geisha
by Firebreathing Ninja From Space
Summary: AU, set in Ancient Japan. Harry is a samurai, Draco is a ninja; they're deadly enemies on opposite sides of a war. Hermione is a geisha in love with both of them. Surely it must all end in tears...right? Harry/Hermione, Draco/Hermione.
1. Chapter 1: The Geisha and the Samurai

**Disclaimer: **Ninjas own everything, because they are awesome. This ninja doesn't own Harry Potter though, JK Rowling does, because she is a ninja too. You heard it here first!

**The Ninja, The Samurai and The Geisha**

**by Firebreathing Ninja From Space!**

**Chapter 1: The Geisha and the Samurai**

"He's late," Hermione breathed worriedly as she looked anxiously out of the door to the Geisha house.

"Don't worry dear, I'm sure he'll be here soon," Molly, the owner, said reassuringly, placing a motherly hand on her shoulder. "What man could stay away from you for long?" She tucked back a strand of Hermione's sleek, waist-length chocolate hair.

"What if he's hurt?" asked Hermione miserably. "They said there were sounds of fighting at the castle last night." A single crystal tear slipped down her ivory cheek at the thought.

"Harry Potter? Hurt?" Molly scoffed laughingly. "He's Shogun Dumbledore's personal champion, the best in the land with the sword and with magic. No harm will have come to him, you can be sure of that. Now you go and get yourself ready, dear – it wouldn't do to show Harry-sama that you'd been crying."

"Hai." Hermione walked daintily to her room, careful not to step on the hem of her elaborate pale-blue kimono. She knelt down gracefully before her mirror and gently dabbed the tearstains from her face with a damp cloth, before touching up her makeup. She was always careful to look perfect before a customer arrived, but only Harry made her really want to do it – him and one other, who she refused to think of tonight. He made her feel like an innocent maiden in love every time she saw him, not a whore.

"Crying again? You're such a baby," scoffed Cho Chang scornfully from the doorway. "Harry-sama deserves better."

"Please go away," Hermione answered softly, hoping the Chinese girl would go away. Cho was very popular with the customers, and used tricks and lies to get them to give her more money. She was also always bragging about how Harry had once spent the evening with her. Hermione knew, though, that Harry had never returned to Cho because she was bossy and mean, and he even suspected she had caused her previous favourite customer, the samurai Cedric, to be sent away to battle where he was killed.

Cho snorted loudly at Hermione's reply. "'Please go away.'" she mimicked in a whiny voice. "You're so weak and pathetic."

"Cho!" called Molly's voice angrily. "Stop bothering Hermione and go to your room to get ready. You have another customer this evening, remember."

Cho glared daggers at Hermione, and flounced out. Hermione sighed with relief. She surveyed herself in the mirror again to make absolutely sure she looked perfect for Harry. Her hair shimmered like molten brown gold in the moonlight, her deep mahogany eyes gleamed soulfully, and her pale skin and delicate features gave her a mysterious air like a ghost or a yuki-onna. Her clothing covered but hinted tantalizingly at the elegance of her slender body with its well-placed curves. Everyone always told her she was beautiful, but she only really believed it when she heard it from Harry. She choked back another sob.

"Harry-sama! You're here!" a voice shrilled gratingly in the hall outside.

"Good evening, Ginny. Is Hermione here?" asked a richer, deeper voice.

Hermione leapt to her feet, but forced herself not to run out. Smoothing her hair down nervously, she glided gracefully into the hall. There he was! Tall, strong, handsome, resplendent in his scarlet robes, with the Phoenix Blades slung on his back, his coal-black hair sticking up messily like always. His emerald orbs looked up and met her own eyes as she stepped into the hallway, and a thrill passed through her entire body. He smiled, and her heart turned over.

Ginny looked up from where she clung to his arm, and pouted. As Molly's daughter, she was rather spoiled, getting fewer and easier clients than the other girls did. She was ambitious, though, and she had flirted with Harry ever since he started visiting. Hermione would have been jealous, but she knew that Harry had eyes only for her. That just made the pain of knowing she could not be so faithful to him all the worse.

Harry broke away from Ginny, who backed away with a sulky expression on her face. Heart racing, Hermione gave him a perfect bow as he approached. "Harry-sama."

"It's all right, Hermione," Harry admonished gently, lifting her chin with one finger. "You don't have to call me that, I told you. Just Harry is fine."

"You are too kind, H-Harry," Hermione replied blushingly, lowering her eyes demurely.

When they were alone together in her room, and she had poured tea as she always did, Hermione dared to ask about what had been tormenting her all day. "Is it true that there was fighting at the castle last night?"

"Yes," Harry replied sadly. "Voldemort's Death Ninjas tried to infiltrate the keep, no doubt helped by that snake Draco." His hand tightened angrily on his cup. "We fought them off, but Dumbledore-sensei was injured and several men died."

"I'm sorry," Hermione wrung her hands helplessly.

"It's all right," Harry smiled kindly again and touched her cheek gently. "Seeing you lets me keep going through it all."

"Harry-sama..."

Harry set down his cup and leaned in to kiss her lips. Hermione sighed happily as his strong, powerful body enfolded her. She threw her arms around him, clutching at his robes and bunching her small hands into fists. His mouth moved lower, and she let out a delighted gasp as he began to unfasten her kimono.

Later, Hermione lay contentedly in Harry's arms, listening to his breathing and his dreaming murmurs. She wished this time they had together could last forever, but knew it could not – soon the war outside the walls of her room would intrude and Harry would have to go forth to battle again. But for now...she snuggled closer to her green-eyed hero, pressing every inch of skin she could against his muscular body and burying her face in his shoulder.

"I must go," Harry said softly after a too-short, blissful interval.

"No, stay the night," Hermione begged. "Molly won't mind."

"I'm sorry," Harry regretfully sat up and looked around for his robes. "I must be on guard at the castle in case there is another attack. I almost didn't come tonight, but I couldn't stay away." He kissed her one last time before climbing out of bed. Hermione could not bear to watch him go, and lay back down and turned her face to the wall, closing her eyes. Tears pricked at her eyelids.

"Hermione," Harry said seriously. She turned and looked at him as he slung his swords on his back. "When this war is over...we'll go away together, get married and live together properly. If you wish it, that is."

"Really?" the geisha asked dumbfoundedly, not daring to believe it.

"I promise." Harry turned away and strode reluctantly out of the door, leaving Hermione confused and dazed. Could it really be? Would someone like him marry her? Could she ever deserve him? Not only was she a lowborn whore sullied by the many men who had partaken of her services, but her heart was divided as his was not. Worse still, the man who claimed the other part of her affections was his deadly enemy...the Serpent Ninja, Draco Malfoy.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**A/N:** OMG what a plot twist huh?! Next chapter Draco the ninja pays Hermione a visit – which guy will she be with in the end? Maybe YOU will get a chance to decide! Review please!


	2. Chapter 2: The Geisha and the Ninja

**Disclaimer: **Ninjas own everything, because they are awesome. This ninja doesn't own Harry Potter though, JK Rowling does, because she is a ninja too. You heard it here first!

**The Ninja, The Samurai and The Geisha**

**by Firebreathing Ninja From Space!**

**Chapter 2: The Geisha and the Ninja**

Hermione's delicate white hands trembled faintly as she set out Draco's favourite sake. He was due to arrive at any moment, and she was terribly nervous at the prospect of facing him after her last visit from Harry. How could she honourably consider Harry's proposal when she still had feelings for Draco? True, she had many other customers, but none of them meant a thing to her. Draco, on the other hand...she could not help but eagerly anticipate his visits as she did Harry's, butterflies dancing in her stomach, warm excitement beating in her heart, even though she knew it was foolish of her.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath to steady her nerves, she went over to her mirror to make sure that not a hint of the emotional hurricane raging in her heart showed in her face and manner. Satisfied that all was well, she paced the confines of her room like a caged tigress, breathless anticipation rising like a tidal wave in her despite every instinct that screamed that she should not feel this way towards the beautiful ninja. Her hand involuntarily rose to stroke her slender throat, her warm cinnamon eyes drifted half closed and she felt faint warmth rising in her face as she thought of the nights they had spent together in the past. "Draco..." she whispered musically.

"Yes?"

Hermione let out a high-pitched shriek, leapt two feet into the air, and would have fallen if not for her well-trained poise and balance. She turned toward the sound of the voice and saw Draco sitting casually sprawled behind the low table, nonchalantly sipping from his brimming sake cup. He was as devastatingly, effortlessly handsome as ever, the dark leather of his ninja uniform and weapon harness contrasting sharply with his porcelain-like skin and his shimmering platinum hair, which fell around his shoulders in golden waves. His impossibly perfect features were set in an expression of amused indifference, but his slate-coloured orbs showed a terrifying, predatory intensity.

"Draco-sama! H-how long have you been here?"

"Long enough. I see you've missed me." His tone of voice was utterly neutral, dispassionate and uncaring, and she burned with embarrassment. What must he think of her sighing over him like a silly little girl? No doubt she was just a diversion to him, a means of relaxing between battles.

"Hermione-chan? Are you all right?" The door opened and Molly's head peered in.

"'Evening, Molly," Draco said in the same tone, not bothering to look round. "I put tonight's payment in the secret drawer in your bedroom. You should hide it better."

"I...I see. Thank you, Draco-sama." Molly glanced again at Hermione, then bowed deeply and withdrew, sliding the door shut behind her.

Hermione knelt in her customary place opposite Draco, and waited for him to speak. He merely studied her in silence for minute after minute, toying with his cup with his long, elegant fingers and occasionally sipping slowly and deliberately. She burned beneath his fixed gaze as the tension in the room became palpable, and glanced back furtively at him through her half-lowered lashes. He was truly beautiful, like a god come down from the heavens. Merely flicking her gaze across his slender but perfectly sculpted torso, visible under his open tunic, made her throat go dry. The blank, stony expression on his gorgeous visage – making him look like a brooding, fallen angel – filled her with pangs of dismay and regret. How could such a beautiful man be so cold, and how could he so intrigue and excite her in spite of it?

Finally, to break the unbearable silence, she tentatively asked: "Were...were you at the fighting at the castle, Draco-sama?"

"The other night? Yes, but only at the beginning," the angelic warrior replied casually, his grey eyes neither moving from her nor becoming one iota less intense. "I was paid to get the Death Ninjas into the castle, so that's what I did. If they wanted to get themselves killed running around inside that deathtrap, that's their problem. Stand up," he added abruptly.

Wondering what he had in mind, Hermione obeyed, rising gracefully to her feet in a rustle of silk. Draco's eyes followed her up, flashing silver-grey.

"Take off your clothes. I want to look at you." The tone of his voice remained perfectly level and disinterested, but liquid fire seemed to run through Hermione's veins. Her fingers shook palpably as she fumbled to unfasten the belt of her kimono. The garment whispered to the floor, followed by her under-robe and remaining clothing. Finally, she untied the ribbon in her hair and let it join them. Her chestnut hair tumbled over her ivory shoulders in gleaming waves, disarranged from its elaborate arrangement and giving her a rumpled, almost wanton look.

Blushing furiously and resisting the urge to cover herself, she averted her eyes from Draco as he continued to sit drinking his sake with the same uncaring, faintly mocking expression on his god-like visage. Only a flicker of fire in his steely eyes hinted at a hunger behind. More minutes ticked by as he devoured her alabaster skin and perfectly shaped form with his gaze. Draining his cup, he abruptly stood up in one swift, flowing motion, startling her. He padded silently round the room, examining her from every angle, once, twice, three times, like a lion circling a lamb. Unlike Harry, Hermione thought, Draco never made her forget what she was: a whore. Somehow, though, when she was with him the fact no longer caused her such pain. Such thoughts filled her with shame and disgust, but they could not quench the burning fire he lit in her bosom.

The tension and anticipation was now unbearable – Hermione could feel the breeze from the window and the air currents stirred up by Draco's movement caressing her body like a lover's hands, fanning the flames. If she could ever have denied it, she now could not: she ached and yearned for Draco to touch her. At long last, he did, running his thumb along the back of her neck and down her spine with a feather-light touch to the small of her back. She shook like a reed in the wind at the sensation, letting out an involuntary gasp and fighting to stay upright. The fingers of his other hand danced like mischievous fairies up the side of her thigh and up to her hip, then suddenly gripped her hard and spun her round to face him. She squeaked in surprise, knees turning to jelly, and would have fallen had he not grasped her shoulders in a vice-like grip. Meeting his flinty eyes, she was transfixed by the scorching heat of his gaze, like a doe ensnared by a mountain lion.

"Why so fearful?" Draco demanded harshly. "Do I scare you?"

"Y-yes, Draco-sama."

"Why? Am I frightening? Dangerous?"

"Yes, Draco-sama. Everyone knows how deadly you are. All fear you."

Hermione knew she was lying, that Draco's fearsome reputation was not the cause of her fear. Her gnawing fear that he would sense this was confirmed when he rasped: "And so they should. But you're lying. That's not why you're afraid, is it?"

"N-no, Draco-sama."

"What do you fear, then?"

She burned with embarrassment at the thought of speaking her forbidden feelings aloud and tried to look away, but he grasped her chin firmly and forced her to meet his thundercloud gaze again. "Say it. What do you fear?"

There was nothing for it. "I fear...the way you make me feel, Draco-sama."

"Oh? And how do I make you feel?" Draco's eyes gleamed pewter as he sardonically asked the question – he already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear her say it.

"You make me feel...good, Draco-sama."

"Good? Good how?" Draco barked irritably. "And for Kami's sake stop saying my name, I know what it is."

"When I am with you, I feel...desire. Passion. You set me on fire."

The amusement in his expression grew, only increasing her embarrassment. She was a whore and he was paying for her services, why should he care if she enjoyed his attentions or not? "Oh? And how do I do that?"

"Everything, Dra-I'm sorry. Everything. The way you look at me, the way you touch me..." Inwardly, Hermione was screaming in horror at the things she was saying, but a part of her no longer cared for modesty or discretion. He had asked and she had answered truthfully, and he would do what he willed with the information.

"I see." The normally stoic ninja's voice would have sounded perfectly level to most, but Hermione now detected a slight tremor. "So you like it when I do...this?" He suddenly drew her to him with his killing strength, enfolding her tightly in his arms. Soft skin rubbed uncomfortably against warm leather, but the feel of his lean, hard body against her was so good that she let out an involuntary moan. Those artist's hands of his slipped caressingly down her back, inflaming her desire further.

Cupping her cheek, Draco stared into her chocolate orbs with his silver ones. "Should I take that as a yes?" Unable to speak coherently, the trembling geisha simply nodded.

"And how about this?" Draco's cruel, hard mouth pressed down on hers in a kiss that sent waves of ecstasy rolling through her. She responded eagerly, crushing herself against him and letting her tongue meet his. She was breathless and shivering when they finally broke apart and he held her at arms' length, studying her face as if trying to commit her look of unrestrained passion to memory.

"Tell me what you want, Hermione." His voice was just faintly hoarse.

"I want...I want...I want you to make love to me, Draco!" she cried longingly, all restraint thrown to the wind.

Faster than the eye could see, he lifted her up in his strong arms, causing her to squawk in delighted surprise, then deposited her on the bed. He knelt down above her, one elegant hand pressing into the pillow on either side of her face. She gulped as his hunger was suddenly writ clear in his eyes. "As you wish." He leaned down and kissed her again, as her hands moved to push his tunic off his shoulders.

Some time later, Hermione lay exhausted but happy next to Draco, eyes closed and swimming in a warm sea of joy after the most shatteringly passionate love-making of her life. When she heard the ninja get up and start gathering his clothing, she remained unmoving, feigning sleep. She could not bear the disappointment of his returning to his normal cold, controlled self after the dark, fiery passion he had displayed earlier.

She heard the door slide open then close again, and tears began to well up behind her eyelids as she wept for what she had glimpsed for a brief moment and now most likely lost forever. Draco would never love her – why should he? – and if he did, he would never lower his guard to let it show. He was a deadly man under constant threat of death, both hunter and hunted, and it had made a cold and dead thing of his heart. It gave her comfort to know that she could ease the soul-crushing burden of his life from time to time, but there would be no kind words of thanks for her, only the scant warmth of his reflected glory.

A sudden sensation tore her from her miserable musings and almost startled her into breaking her illusion of sleep. A long-fingered hand was gently – tenderly – stroking and smoothing her silky tousled hair, gathering it neatly against her shoulder. The tumbled blankets were gently pulled over her and tucked solicitously around her. She realized that Draco must have changed his mind and returned. But what was he doing? His touch as he continued to stroke her hair and run his fingers through its softness was neither exploring nor inflaming, merely pleasantly stimulating. Even when he softly kissed her smooth, bare shoulder before drawing the blanket around it, it felt...affectionate? She wondered briefly if this was someone else – though who might treat her so lovingly save Harry, who she knew was far away, she had no idea. This doubt was dispelled when she heard his voice, though his words shocked her.

"Goodbye, my dear Hermione. Be safe."

Another tender kiss fell like a snowflake on her cheek, then the door swished again and he was gone. The shocked girl remained perfectly still for a long time, unsure if he had really left this time, then finally opened her amber eyes and sat up. Draco was gone, but there was a red rose on the pillow beside her. Her heart fluttered with amazement and confusion as she touched the flower. Had that really happened? Could Draco care for her as something other than a warm body and an amusing plaything? Was there a tender, loving man hidden behind his coldly beautiful exterior?

And what did this mean for the decision she had to make about Harry? Could she go away with him without knowing Draco's true feelings? In coldly logical and mundane terms, the choice between the two men was obvious. Harry was the Shogun's champion, well-born, loved and respected by the people, a hero who kept Voldemort's depredations at bay, and a kind and generous man. Draco was a wanted killer, a traitor who worked for Voldemort (even if it was only for money), a cold and hard man with no home or decent living who had never even spoken to her directly of love and affection, let alone marriage. And yet...and yet...could things be otherwise? And was Harry's offer a true escape – could she take him from his duty and expose him to ridicule for marrying her?

What should she do?

Shaking her head (causing her tawny, unbound hair to fly around her), Hermione resolved to make no decision as yet. Harry's offer remained a dream until the war was over in any case, and though it still pained her that even if he was the one she chose, she could not yet offer him her whole heart, she comforted herself with the thought that he had never demanded such a thing, nor asked her about her other customers. The geisha smiled ruefully as it occurred to her that she should count her blessings – how fortunate was she, a poor whore, to have the love and attention of two such brave and handsome men? She blushed at the improper thought, but the smile remained on her face as she dressed hurriedly, tucked the red rose into her hair and headed for the baths.

As she passed down the corridor, smiling to a relieved-looking Molly to assure her that all was well, a pair of narrowed eyes followed her with malice and curiosity. Cho detached herself from the shadows and looked after Hermione, an inscrutable expression on her face.

"So that's how it is..."

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**A/N: **Uh oh, what's Cho planning?! I was very disappointed not to get any reviews for chapter 1 – I know people are reading (people on four continents, go me!) from my hit counter, so where's the reviews? For encouragement, here's a couple of questions for everyone to try and answer:

1) Which guy do you think Hermione should be with?

2) Which guy would YOU rather be with? (Hee hee!)

I'll ask again after chapter 5 – let's see if anyone changes their mind!


	3. Chapter 3: The Samurai and the Ninja

**Disclaimer: **Ninjas own everything, because they are awesome. This ninja doesn't own Harry Potter though, JK Rowling does, because she is a ninja too. You heard it here first!

**The Ninja, The Samurai and The Geisha**

**by Firebreathing Ninja From Space!**

**Chapter 3: The Samurai and the Ninja**

Harry and four of his best samurai halted across the street from the tavern, and he looked up and down the street to make sure that the rest of his men were in place. Ron and Neville were leading more men round the back to cut off the enemy's escape. The tavern was run by a former supporter of Voldemort and had been identified as the hideout of the Death Ninjas in the city, so Dumbledore-sensei had sent them there to try and capture the Death Ninjas who had attacked the castle the week before. Most of the customers there would probably be Voldemort supporters as well.

"Remember, the other people in the tavern may work for Voldemort too." Harry reminded his companions. "When I order the owner to give up himself and the Death Ninjas, they might attack us!"

"Don't worry, Harry-sama! They won't get away with anything while I'm watching them!" said Colin Creevey eagerly. Harry smiled at his eagerness – the young samurai was very enthusiastic about his duties.

If Harry and his samurai could defeat this band of Death Ninjas, the city would be safe from their attacks and they could go and look for Voldemort's secret lair and get rid of him once and for all. Harry looked forward to putting down his swords and living a normal life...with Hermione. Harry smiled tenderly as he thought of his beloved. At least one good thing had come out of this war: he had met her. He might never have done if it hadn't been for Dumbledore-sensei.

_(flashback)_

"_Harry," the Shogun mused as Harry bowed deeply to his master and teacher, "I think it is high time you knew the pleasure of a woman's embrace."_

_Harry blushed violently. "Dumbledore-sensei!" he exclaimed in shock, "Forgive me, but there is no need for such a thing. I am more than adequately in control of my baser instincts." It was true – he had never felt the slightest urge to join the other samurai and soldiers in mingling with loose women in the coarser taverns, or even to seek out the more refined pleasures of the Geisha houses. He tolerated but discouraged such behaviour in the men under his command._

"_That, grasshopper, is the problem," Dumbledore explained, "If you deny your nature as a man, you risk harming your spiritual development or even driving yourself to darkness. Further, if you cannot understand your subordinates' desire for the company of the fairer sex, you do not properly understand them as men."_

_Harry bowed respectfully again. "I honour your wisdom, Dumbledore-sensei. What would you have me do?"_

_Dumbledore carefully handed Harry a piece of paper. "Go to this address tonight," he said. "The owner of the establishment is named Molly, and is known to me." (Known _how_?, Harry wondered.) "My foresight tells me that you will find what you need there."_

_(end flashback)_

He had very reluctantly obeyed the Shogun's command and gone to the Geisha house. To his great surprise, the owner had been a kind and motherly woman who listened politely to his embarrassed, stammered explanation of why he was there. Put at his ease by the civilized air of the place but still terribly nervous, he had been invited to take his pick from the half-dozen beautiful, immaculately dressed and made up girls available at the time. He had picked Cho, because the Chinese girl stood out exotically among the group of Japanese girls, and because she had most aggressively presented herself to attract his attention.

It had been a bad choice, he soon realized. Cho was bossy and mean, pushing herself at him without any sympathy for his lack of experience – until she realized who he was, at which point she started being sickeningly fake-impressed. When the evening was over, he was wondering quite what possessed other men to seek casual encounters with women so enthusiastically, and fretting over how Dumbledore-sensei could have been so gravely mistaken.

But then...but then...

_(flashback)_

"_You must come again, Harry-sama." Cho gushed irritatingly, clinging like a limpet to Harry's arm as he attempted to make his escape. "After you, no man will ever compare for me."_

"_Perhaps," Harry replied unenthusiastically. He quickened his pace as he made for the exit, but Cho still clung to him like a leech. They passed several other rooms where geishas were entertaining clients, and Harry tried very hard not to listen to the sounds coming from within. Suddenly, however, he heard a loud slap and a girl crying out in pain, which he could not ignore. He angrily slammed open the door from which the sound had come and saw a large, brute-faced man standing over a girl cowering on the floor, raising his hand menacingly._

"_You keep your mouth shut unless I tell you otherwise, you got that, slut?" The brute got no further before Harry furiously grabbed him round the throat and slammed him violently to the floor. This knocked him unconscious, and Harry hauled him ungently out into the corridor, where he saw the house's owner and two of the female guards approaching._

"_What is going on here?" Molly demanded in surprise. "Harry-sama?"_

"_This man was assaulting one of the girls." Harry explained calmly. "I taught him a lesson in manners."_

"_Is this true, Hermione-chan?" Molly gently asked the girl Harry had rescued. The girl – Hermione – had risen gracefully to her feet, and Harry looked at her properly for the first time. Even with tears glittering in her eyes and an angry red mark on her otherwise flawless white cheek, he was immediately struck by her delicate beauty and the kindness and intelligence in her cinnamon orbs._

"_Yes, ma'am. He was drunk and violent – he was going to hurt me badly for his pleasure if this man had not intervened." _

"_Then we are in your debt, Harry-sama. Hermione – this is Harry Potter, the Shogun's personal champion."_

_Blushing brightly, Hermione bowed low. "I cannot thank you enough, Harry-sama. I am unworthy of your gallantry."_

"_That's not true!" Harry blurted out without thinking, causing everyone to look at him in surprise. Hermione's eyes were luminous and wide with shock as she stared at him. "I...I mean...you shouldn't say such things. No-one should be brutalized so."_

"_You are very kind to say so, Harry-sama." Hermione averted her eyes modestly, but he could sense her unstated emotion._

"_I hope you will accept our hospitality another time as a gift, Harry-sama," said Molly._

"_I...yes, I think I will." Harry replied, still looking at Hermione, who smiled timidly but brightly. Harry's heart lurched in an unfamiliar way, and he wondered if this was what Dumbledore-sensei had sent him here to find._

_(end flashback)_

The magical signal came that Ron and Neville were in position, so Harry nodded decisively to his companions. They walked casually across the street to avoid arousing suspicion, and entered the tavern. Inside it was dark and dingy, and mostly empty. The few men sitting at the tables looked disreputable and dangerous. The barman's eyes went wide as he saw the five samurai, and he reached for something under the bar.

"Nobody move." Harry ordered firmly. "There are Death Ninjas hiding in this building, and we are here to arrest them. If you try to stop us, you will be arrested too."

"You and what army, boy?" the barman snarled angrily, pulling out his hidden short sword and jumping over the bar to attack. The other customers drew weapons and moved in on the samurai as well. One of them whistled piercingly to alert their comrades.

"Bad decision," Harry sighed resignedly, drawing the larger of the Phoenix Blades to parry the barman's attack. When it leapt from its scabbard, the crimson-hilted sword began to emit phoenix song, the signal for the other samurai outside to attack. Another man tried to stab Harry from behind, but he drew his second sword and parried with such force that the man was thrown to the ground. He could see Colin and the other easily fighting off the other customers. However, a trapdoor behind the bar had now opened and black-clad Death Ninjas were starting to climb out of it.

Harry hurriedly finished his duel with the barman, raining down blows too fast for the man to parry easily. At last the barman fell, bleeding from several cuts and a deeper slash to his neck. Five Death Ninjas were now approaching Harry warily, so he moved swiftly into a magic stance, drew a symbol in the air with his sword and shouted "_Aquadraconus!_" All five were flung off their feet by a blast of water and into a wall. The rest of the samurai were now starting to pour into the tavern and engage the ninjas.

Several more ninjas, using magic-assisted leaps, had made their way into the building's rafters and prepared to drop on Harry from above. Changing stance, he shouted "_Aerodraconus!_" Glowing gusts of wind intercepted the ninjas in mid-air.

"Look out, Harry-sama!" Colin's voice alerted him to the presence of a familiar green-clad figure. It was the Serpent Ninja, Draco Malfoy, an infuriating smirk on his palely handsome face.

"Potter," Malfoy spat, drawing his sword and assuming a magic stance. The combatants in the middle of the room instinctively cleared the space between the two warriors as Harry squared off determinedly against his arch-enemy.

"Malfoy. Give yourself up and you will live," Harry replied, readying his sword to cast a spell at Malfoy if need be.

"Never," Draco responded sardonically. "_Serpentium!_"

"_Aerodraconus!_" Wind and snakes met in the centre of the room with a flash of energy as they annihilated each other.

"_Multiplicatus!_" Dozens of copies of Draco suddenly filled the room, surrounding Harry on all sides.

"_Ignidraconus!_" A ring of fire formed around Harry and blasted outwards, incinerating all the clones.

"_Sharingan!_" Draco's eyes glowed as he used his most feared power in an attempt to paralyze Harry. The green-eyed samurai was prepared, however, raising the polished blade of his sword over his eyes and reflecting the attack back at Draco, who was temporarily stunned.

"_Terradraconus!_" The very earth under Draco's feet rose around him, trapping him in a rocky cocoon. He fought to get free, snarling, but could not. Harry grinned in triumph and looked around the room. Most of the Death Ninjas had now been killed or subdued, but some were still fighting. It was fortunate that he looked up when he did, as another Death Ninja hiding in the rafters dropped towards him with a bloodcurdling scream, green fire trailing from the edge of her sword. Harry neatly sidestepped and impaled the attacker on his Phoenix Blade, which flared with spiritual fire and incinerated the minion of evil.

When he looked back at Malfoy, the grey-eyed ninja had clawed his way out of the cocoon and was fleeing towards the nearest exit. Determined not to let the Serpent Ninja escape, Harry flung his sword after him. It tumbled end over end as it flew, and Draco only barely managed to parry it. Even then, the force of its strike shattered the other sword, and fire scorched Draco's face. He fell to the ground and scrambled and crawled away. The look of defeat and terror in his eyes filled Harry with quiet satisfaction – he had proved himself the Serpent Ninja's better and broken his spirit.

**********

"So Draco Malfoy escaped?" Hermione asked, later that night. They had taken supper together while Harry told the story of the raid, and were now relaxing over tea.

"Yes. Dumbledore-sensei told us not to pursue him for the time being – Voldemort is more important, and one of the prisoners said that relations between Malfoy and the Death Ninjas were poor already. I doubt they'll hire him on again."

"That's good," said Hermione fervently. "Will you have to leave soon to find the Dark Lord?" she asked hesitantly.

Harry shook his head in reassurance. "Not for some time. We need time to gather forces and prepare the expedition, and Dumbledore-sensei needs to do more magic to try and find him. It'll be at least a couple of weeks." He smiled encouragingly at her over his teacup. "So I'm not going anywhere for the time being."

Hermione returned his smile dazzlingly, and took his large callused hand between her small delicate ones. "I'm so glad," she murmured happily. "Can...can you stay till morning tonight?" she asked nervously, her pale cheeks reddening faintly like opening blossoms.

"Of course," Harry replied reassuringly, gently touching the rich softness of her hair. In answer, she threw her arms around him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. Surprised, he returned the embrace, his strong arms easily encompassing her slender waist. She looked up and took his face between her hands – the look on her face took his breath away even before she passionately kissed him. This was far more daring than she had ever been with him before, he thought – could it be that he had finally managed to help her break out of her shell? Delighted with the change, he returned the kiss with interest, losing himself in the delicious softness of her ruby lips, the chocolate warmth of her eyes and the floral sweetness of her feminine scent.

Hermione broke the kiss at last, and they both took shuddering breaths as they gazed at each other lovingly. She took his hand and stood up – he noticed that her belt had come partly undone at some point, causing her kimono to slide down, revealing her soft ivory shoulders and a tantalizing glimpse of the delicate curves of her bosom.

"Take me to bed?" she whispered huskily. Harry's emerald eyes widened at her boldness, but he was only too happy to oblige, letting her lead him to the bed and then draw him down into her loving embrace. He trailed butterfly kisses down her neck and throat and lower, determined to grant her all the pleasure and passion he could give, and that she so richly deserved.

Blissful, uncounted hours later, they lay entwined together in a state of exhausted delight. Harry tenderly caressed Hermione's hair while holding her close, his heart filled with love for this fragile, passionate creature who had awakened him to a whole new universe of emotion. He was more determined than ever to give her a new life free from exploitation and abuse.

"I love you, Harry," Hermione murmured against his chest, surprising him – he had thought she was asleep.

"And I love you," Harry replied fervently, kissing the top of her head. "Have you given any more thought to my proposal?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes. And...and...when the war is over, if you still want me...I will marry you, Harry." Hermione blushed as she looked into his eyes, but she spoke firmly and with conviction. Then she looked away shyly. "I can still scarcely believe it...I don't know if I will make you a very good wife. I've never learned to cook or keep house, all I know is how to be a geisha."

"That doesn't matter," Harry responded firmly. "So long as we are together, I will be the happiest man in the world."

"Harry..." Her earlier passion seemed to re-ignite in Hermione's eyes and she drew herself up above him, the fragrant curtain of her hair falling around them both. Her touch and the breathtaking sight of her in the moonlight made his head spin, and he eagerly reached for her to resume their love-making.

When he left the next morning, kissing Hermione's forehead as she lay sleeping peacefully, Harry knew he was going to be late for a meeting at the castle, but he didn't care. Molly greeted him warmly as he made his way out of the building.

"Harry-sama, good morning!"

"Hello, Molly. Is Hermione free tomorrow night?"

"To you? Of course. I wouldn't dream of keeping the lovebirds apart." Molly winked saucily, and Harry blushed slightly. "In fact, you should take her out on the town like a proper lady."

"You don't mind?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course not. Show her a good time, she deserves it."

"I will."

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**A/N: **Well, it seems like things are settled now. Or are they?! (Hint: No.) Next chapter we find out where Draco's been and whether the love triangle is really resolved or not. (Hint: It isn't.) Review please! Even if it's just to say you read and enjoyed!

Oh, and I borrowed some ideas from _Naruto _from the fight scene. In case it wasn't obvious.


	4. Chapter 4: The Ninja and the Geisha

**Disclaimer: **Ninjas own everything, because they are awesome. This ninja doesn't own Harry Potter though, JK Rowling does, because she is a ninja too. You heard it here first!

**The Ninja, The Samurai and The Geisha**

**by Firebreathing Ninja From Space!**

**Chapter 4: The Ninja and the Geisha**

Draco drained the last bottle of spirits and tossed it against a wall as he stumbled drunkenly towards the Geisha house. He had been hiding in cellars and abandoned buildings all day, venturing out only to secure alcohol to drown his misery in. How could Harry Potter have beaten him so convincingly? That self-righteous idiot, with no subtlety or cleverness to his magic or his swordplay?

"Draco-sama!" Molly exclaimed as he lurched in through the front door. "We had heard that-"

"I'd crawled off to die, yes, yes..." Draco slurred. "Where's Hermione?"

"I'm afraid she is with another client just now, but-"

"I'll pay extra." Draco tossed the pouch containing his remaining money at her feet, giving her a steely glare. "As for the client...he won't be a problem."

"Draco-sama, please..."

Ignoring Molly, Draco strode towards Hermione's room, pushing past several of the girls who had turned out to stare. He slid open the door with a bang, and saw Hermione serving tea to some chinless merchant's son.

"Change of plans, boy," Draco snarled perfunctorily, violently grabbing the youth by the collar.

"Draco-sama?" Hermione gasped breathlessly.

"What is the meaning of this?" the other client squawked indignantly, as Draco hauled him roughly out of the door, tossed him halfway down the corridor and slammed the door behind him. He turned to regard Hermione, who shrank away from him nervously, causing the grey-eyed ninja a pang of shame even as his heart lifted at the sight of her. She was so pure and lovely and kind – how could a woman who sold herself remain so unspoiled? And how could a miserable, treacherous wretch like him have been so fortunate as to find her?

"Draco...you should not be here. It's not safe," Hermione whispered urgently.

"I know. I don't care," he growled crossly, making to approach her. He stumbled drunkenly, however, and sat down heavily on the floor.

"Are you all right? Are you hurt?" Hermione rushed anxiously to his side, touching his shoulder with her cool, gentle hand. He melted beneath her touch, his self-loathing fury ebbing somewhat. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he furiously blinked them away.

"No. Jus' drunk. Been drinking all day," he confessed guiltily, gazing into her warm brown eyes with his cold orbs.

"You should rest," she said decisively. "Come and lie down."

"Don' need rest. Jus' need you," Draco slurred, putting his arms around her.

"Draco..." Hermione blushed, and Draco realized he had given away his hidden feelings to a greater extent than ever before. Once again, though, he didn't care. Their golden and russet hair mingled as he kissed her hard and fiercely, her sweet surrender infusing him with warmth and making his head spin more than the spirits he had drunk had. More than anything, he wanted to lose himself in her purity, to wash away the shameful memory of defeat.

Dizziness forced him to break off the kiss, and he hung his head in muddled exhaustion. Hermione held him tenderly, stroking his platinum hair in a way that no-one ever had. "Let me help you, Draco," she whispered. "What can I do? Tell me, and I'll do it."

Draco knew what he wanted – to make love to her till she screamed, to infuse her with raw sensation to strip away her demure doll-like demeanour and leave a warm and passionate human being. At least when he brought her pleasure he could feel as if he had done one good thing in his life. He would never be the kind of man who could articulate such feelings, though, and the thought filled him with anger at those who had made him that way. His anger infused his passion as he crushed her to him once again, claiming her lips with his like a hawk swooping on a mouse. She squeaked in surprise, but responded immediately, sliding her hands under his tunic to run them over his slender, sculpted torso. The feel of her soft fingertips on his scarred alabaster skin inflamed him further, and he clutched at her like a drowning man clutching driftwood, pressing her to the floor as he kissed her with every ounce of ferocity in his warrior soul.

"Draco...you're...you're hurting me..." Hermione breathed urgently between kisses. Irritated, as much at himself as at her, he silenced her protest with his lips, but shifted his grip on her arms and moved his weight where he lay atop her. His burning desire was the only thing keeping his misery and shame at bay, and he could barely stop devouring her long enough to lift her up and carry her to the bed. He laid her down with no great gentleness, and he could see both fear and passion in her eyes, but she made no protest as he efficiently stripped away her elegant clothing, little caring if he tore anything in the process. There would be no cool and measured seduction tonight. He rained down kisses like hailstones, and pressed his hard, lean body against her soft and slender perfection, making her moan with uncontrollable desire.

Much later, when his passion had finally abated, Draco sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. Hermione lay sleeping or merely exhausted behind him, but he could not bear to look at her, to see the bruises on her slender arms and the angry red marks of his lips and teeth on her ivory shoulders and neck. She had borne his animal desire without a word of complaint, and that only made him feel even more like the evil monster people said he was. How could he be so cruel and ungentle to such a delicate and beautiful woman? He felt as if he had taken a perfect, fragile blossom in his brutish hands and crushed it. He was as bad as...as bad as...he could not complete the thought, and instead burst into uncontrollable, sobbing tears. The salty crystal droplets trickled sparklingly down his face and splashed wetly onto the bed.

More sobs wracked Draco, the warrior undefeated by any except one totally unmanned by his own shame and self-disgust. He howled quietly like a wounded animal, his nails raking at his face as if he sought to tear himself to pieces.

Suddenly he felt gentle hands on his bare shoulders, a musical voice whispering anxiously in his ear. "Draco...Draco? What's wrong?"

He let out a bitter laugh. "What's wrong? You ask me that! You should hate me, spit at me, turn away from me. I'm no good. I'm a monster."

"What are you talking about?"

"What do you think I'm talking about?! I mauled and ravaged you like a beast, I'm disgusting. How can you bear to look at me?"

Hermione's arms slid loosely around him. The feel of her skin against his was so good, but the desire it inspired only shamed him further. "Draco. It's all right. Do you know what some of the men who come here are like? I know you only did it because you were unhappy, and I can see you're sorry. If I can help you feel even a little better after a battle, I don't care about a few bruises."

Draco could barely believe what he was hearing, and he sobbed again. How could she be so kind and understanding? "I am sorry. I'm so sorry...so sorry." He clutched her hand with his, tentatively looking round at her.

"I told you, it's all right. Actually..." She paused in embarrassment, biting her lip. "I never saw you so...passionate before. You are normally so controlled."

"I have to be that way," Draco said hollowly. "Otherwise I might end up like...like..."

"Like who?" Draco tried to look away, but Hermione touched his cheek to stop him. "Draco, like who?"

"Did I ever tell you why I became a ninja?" Hermione shook her head. "No, of course not. Well, my father was a great lord. Very wealthy, friends in high places. He supported Voldemort, but no-one dared speak out against him in case he used horrible magic on their families. He did that sort of thing for fun, even...even to my mother."

"Kami-sama! That's horrible!" Hermione exclaimed sympathetically, holding him tighter.

"He used to beat her whenever she displeased him in the slightest," the ninja continued, his voice tightly controlled. "Me as well. And he did worse things to her where I couldn't see. Once I went into their room and...no...I can't talk about it." He shuddered, and Hermione squeezed him reassuringly. He could see tears glinting in her warm chocolate eyes. "When I was old enough, I ran away from home and trained as a ninja. Eventually, I took a job for Voldemort when he ordered my father's assassination – I can't even remember why now. In any case, it was easy for me to sneak into his castle and kill him."

Hermione's eyes were big and luminous, but she said nothing. Draco went on: "I hoped I could rescue my mother, but...it was too late. She had gone mad and killed herself. She...she only had half her fingers and toes left after my father was finished with her. You can't imagine how satisfying it was to put my sword through his heart."

"I'm so sorry..." Hermione's tears flowed freely as she hugged Draco comfortingly. He gratefully buried his face in her soft, fragrant hair.

"That's why I keep such a tight rein on my emotions," he explained. "I'm terrified I'll turn into my father, lashing out cruelly at anyone weaker than myself."

"You could never be like him," Hermione murmured fervently through her tears.

"Thank you." Draco kissed her, thankful beyond words for her gentle presence. He had never told this story to anyone before. Some god must surely be smiling on him, to have sent such an angel to him. They made love again, slowly and tenderly this time, Draco treating his dear geisha like priceless porcelain. When it was over, he realized he had better leave in case someone had altered Dumbledore's samurai to his presence.

"What will you do now?" Hermione asked as she watched Draco dress, the blankets drawn up around her.

"Go far away," Draco replied decisively as he tied his sword-belt. "I'm done with this war, with Voldemort and his stupid schemes. Would you...would you come with me?"

Hermione's eyes went wide with shock. "Come with you?"

"I know I've no right to ask. I've nothing to offer you except a life on the road, even if I can get my hands on some of my father's hoarded money. It's just...if you're with me, I think I can truly leave the fighting and killing behind me. And I can't bear the thought of leaving you to be slobbered over by rich idiots."

"Draco, I...I don't know what to say."

"It's all right," Draco replied understandingly. "You don't have to decide right away. I'll be hiding out at the old temple down by the river, near South Gate, for the next few days, until things quieten down." Inwardly he barely dared to hope that she would come with him, but he promised himself that he would return one day if she could not come now.

Before leaving, he crouched silhouetted in the window against the driving rain that blew in and plastered his platinum hair against his head. "I love you, Hermione," he declared, heart pounding with unaccustomed emotion. He tried to fix in his mind the rich brown of her wide eyes, the blossom-like pink of her blushing cheeks, the smooth and perfect curve of her bare ivory shoulders, and the delightfully chaotic fall of her chestnut hair around her. Then he dropped from the windowsill and vanished into the night.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**A/N:** What now? How will Hermione deal with Draco's declaration of love? And will Cho and Ginny give up Harry without a fight? Find out in the next chapter, and don't forget to review! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5: The Samurai and the Geisha

**Disclaimer: **Ninjas own everything, because they are awesome. This ninja doesn't own Harry Potter though, JK Rowling does, because she is a ninja too. You heard it here first!

**The Ninja, The Samurai and The Geisha**

**by Firebreathing Ninja From Space!**

**Chapter 5: The Samurai and the Geisha**

Harry and Hermione wandered arm in arm along the riverbank in the light of the setting sun, white and pink blossom from the magnificent cherry trees occasionally blowing past them like light snow. True to his word, he had taken her to the city's finest restaurant for the evening, and arranged a room for the night at a discreet but luxurious hostelry so that they could leave her profession aside for a while. His greatest worry had been that one of her other customers might see and recognize her in the city, not because he cared what people knew or thought about the company he kept, but because she would be embarrassed and humiliated if someone made a scene about it. He had been more than prepared to fight any number of duels to defend her honour if need be, but fortunately that hadn't proved necessary. If anyone had recognized Hermione as a geisha, they had kept it to themselves rather than admit to how they knew.

"I am so happy," Hermione sighed contentedly as they sat down in the shade of the oldest and largest of the sakura trees. "Thank you, Harry."

"It was my pleasure," Harry assured her with a smile, kissing her hand. They sat hand in hand for a long while, enjoying the last of the evening's light and each other's company. Hermione looked particularly beautiful in the sunset, Harry thought, the orange and pink sunbeams setting her pale skin alight like a goddess of fire. She smiled and giggled as he leant over to brush sakura petals from her silky chocolate hair, and her happy expression was so lovely that he kissed her.

"Harry! Someone might see!" Hermione blushed, but did not push him away.

"I don't care," Harry replied fervently, the depth of his passion surprising him. He deepened the kiss, and Hermione shyly returned it, pressing her delicate softness against him. He boldly ran his hands caressingly up her flanks, and she gave a delightful, delighted murmur.

At last, they stopped kissing to look into each others eyes. "Make love to me, Harry," Hermione breathed, her cinnamon eyes shining with love.

"As my lady commands," Harry replied smilingly, taking her hand to help her to her feet.

Their passion was not dimmed by the brisk walk to the room he had reserved; indeed, it was inflamed by the enforced wait. As soon as he had shut the door behind them, Harry found himself once again wrapped in Hermione's gentle arms, her soft lips raining down kisses.

"Stay here a moment, please," Hermione instructed when she paused, a shy yet mischievous smile on her face. Returning the smile and wondering what she had in mind, Harry did as she asked. She let go of him and backed away to the middle of the room, an endearing tinge of pink in her cheeks. Slowly, she reached up and unpinned her hair, shaking her head languorously so that it billowed loose around her face like bamboo blowing in the wind.

"This is my gift to you, dear Harry." So saying, Hermione began to unfasten the belt of her kimono, her elegant fingers moving with agonizing slowness. Harry was transfixed as she artfully shed her clothing like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, until she stood before him bare and unashamed, a goddess sprung from the earth to inspire his worship. No demeaning veils of social artifice or financial exchange lay between them: there was only Harry, gaping in awe, and Hermione, gloriously illuminated by the dying sun's last rays peering round the shutters to clothe her in multi-hued radiance.

His beautiful goddess approached him slowly and embraced him once again, her naked skin beneath his fingers more wonderful to the touch than the finest silk. Drunk on her loveliness, he drew her to him with a longing sigh, lowering his lips to hers. Small delicate hands deftly slid beneath his tunic, running maddeningly across his battle-hardened musculature before moving to undress him. Flesh pressed against flesh as they fell onto the bed in a passionate tangle, Harry caressing Hermione's sensitive skin as he did his utmost to express his devotion.

The next morning, they awoke slowly in a happy daze and dressed and departed with few words, unwilling to break the enchantment they felt. They were silent as they walked back to the Geisha house in dawn's early light, basking in the memory of their wonderful night together but sad at the thought of parting.

As they entered, Cho appeared from the shadows, causing Harry to stifle a groan. "Hello, Harry-sama," the Chinese girl said in a sickly-sweet voice.

"Good morning, Cho," Harry replied politely.

Cho turned her gaze to Hermione, looking at her like something she had scraped off her shoe. "I can't believe you," she snapped spitefully. "Stringing Harry-sama along like this!"

"Wh-what?" Hermione gasped in shock. Harry paled with fury.

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about," Cho continued. "But Harry-sama doesn't. She's in love with Draco Malfoy, aren't you, Hermione?"

Harry froze. "What?"

"It's obvious," Cho said, shaking her head reprovingly. "Every time he visits here, she always has that dreamy look on her face. She doesn't really love you, Harry-sama."

"Hermione? Tell me this isn't true!" Harry exclaimed in horror. Could this be true? He prayed that it wasn't.

"I...I...he has been a customer of mine, Harry, but I swear, I love you!"

"But do you love him as well?" Harry demanded, seeing the truth in her eyes.

"I...I..." Tears came to Hermione's eyes as she tried to speak. Cho vanished discreetly into the shadows again.

"You do?! How could you love that man? He's a snake, a treacherous villain who never did anyone any good!"

"That's not true!" Hermione cried abruptly, then covered her mouth with her hands, aghast.

Harry recoiled, stricken to his very soul by the realization that Hermione really did love Malfoy. He pushed his hands through his coal-black hair, trying to contain his fury. "I...I...I need to think for a while, Hermione," he said at last in a low voice. "I'll...I'll be back."

"Don't leave me, Harry..." Hermione wailed as he turned and hurried away, in case his resolve should falter.

*****

Hermione sobbed quietly as she sat in her room. She had known she would soon have to decide between her two lovers, but had not expected it to be forced on her so abruptly. Indeed, the choice might have been made for her if Harry could no longer love her after the revelation of her feelings for Draco. If that happened, she thought, she would have to run away with Draco – she could not bear to lose them both and return to a miserable, loveless existence as a rich men's plaything.

She heard the door open, and looked up. "Harry?" she breathed in shock, seeing the samurai standing in the doorway. Her heart leapt for a moment, then sank again as she saw the angry expression on his face. He opened his hand and let a fistful of coins shower onto the floor.

"Here's your fee, whore," he snapped coldly. "It's more than you're worth. Go to Malfoy; you deserve each other. You're both treacherous, backstabbing filth." He spat at her feet, turned round and walked out with a contemptuous sneer.

Hermione could barely breathe; her wail of denial became a hoarse croak as she rocked back and forth, staring after him as the door slammed. A tsunami of tears gushed down her face, and she covered her face with her hands and sank to the floor, sunk in a black pit of horror and despair. How could he say such things? And yet...perhaps she deserved them. She had failed to return his love fully and wholeheartedly. If...when...she was with Draco again, she would be honest with him and tell the truth about her relationship with Harry. Whatever he might think of her, he deserved to know.

When she was with Draco...yes, she realized, that was the way things had to be now. This was not how she would have chosen for things to turn out, but at least now she knew what must be done. Slightly cheered by her decision, she slowly picked herself up, cleaned her face and began collecting her few belongings. There was not a moment to lose: Draco was waiting. Smiling wanly at the thought of being held in the ninja's strong arms again, she packed her things together and headed for the back door. Almost everyone was still asleep, so her departure went unnoticed.

*****

Harry walked briskly up to the door of the Geisha house. He had been unable to concentrate on anything all day for thinking about Hermione and Malfoy. The thought of the two of them together made his blood boil, but equally the thought of living without her made him feel hollow inside. Thus, his love for her had made his mind up for him. He realized now that Hermione was not at fault: he could hardly blame her for spending time with other men when her profession demanded it, and Malfoy was known to be considered handsome and charming by some. If he had given her special treatment, it was not so surprising that she might have begun to feel affection for him without knowing what kind of man he really was.

Filled with determination from his decision, he had set out immediately to apologize for his harsh reaction and re-affirm his love for her. He would have to make the truth about Malfoy clear to her, but that was less important.

Reaching the entrance, he was surprised to see Hermione coming the other way, a bundle over her shoulder. "Hermione?" he exclaimed, surprised.

"Oh, it's you," Hermione replied in a contemptuous tone that made his eyes widen in shock. "If you've come crawling back to 'forgive' me, you're too late. I'm going away with Draco."

"What?" Harry was aghast.

"And don't come looking for us, or I'll tell everyone that you used to beat me."

"Hermione...please...I'm begging you, don't go to him. He's not the man you think he is."

"So he's not twice the warrior and ten times the lover that you are?" Hermione gave a bark of laughter. "We used to laugh together about you and how great you think you are."

Harry froze. "No..."

"Yes. I only strung you along this long because he thought it was funny. Being with you makes me sick, but I endured it for Draco." To Harry's horror, she sighed lovingly at the ninja's name. "He knows exactly how to give a woman ultimate pleasure...you don't." She sneered and turned to go.

"Hermione...don't go...I love you..." Harry desperately reached for her arm.

"Don't touch me." Hermione shook his hand off and marched away, leaving Harry sunk in a black pit of despair.

*****

"Did it work?" demanded Cho. Ginny grabbed a cup of Polyjuice Potion antidote from the other girl's hand as she entered the room – it wouldn't do for their ruse to be caught now. Seeing Cho turn into Harry had been deeply weird. Gulping the antidote down, she changed from Hermione back into herself.

"Yes, I think so," she replied. "Harry-sama went away...he looked so miserable, I feel terrible now."

"Well, I'll just have to comfort him and make him forget that stupid girl. She's gone to Malfoy now, and good riddance." Ginny grimaced disgustedly at Cho's spiteful comment. She felt bad for going along with Cho's plan and hurting Harry and Hermione, but she was sure it was for the best. She would have Harry, and Hermione would go away with Draco, who she seemed to love just as much and who would otherwise be alone. Everyone would win...except Cho, and deservedly so.

"You'll comfort him? Ha! The joke's on you, Cho, he doesn't like you at all. I'm sure to win now and fill the gap in his heart." Ginny sighed contentedly at the thought of finally being held in Harry's heroic arms and making passionate love to him. Cho had suggested they work together on this plan so that they could compete for Harry once Hermione was out of the way, but Ginny knew that it would be no contest.

"Oh, I don't think so," said Cho smugly. "You won't be winning anything. Harry will be mine."

"You're crazy," Ginny laughed merrily. "We're done here. I'm going to plan my first night with Harry." She turned to make for the door.

"No, you're not going anywhere."

"Why not?"

"Because I poisoned the antidote I gave you. You'll be dead in a few minutes."

Ginny's blood turned to ice. Suddenly she felt the poison coursing through her veins, and her heart began to beat faster as it laboured to keep going. Her vision blurred, but her mind remained lucid with only one thought: not to let Cho get away with this. She drew the dagger she kept hidden in her sleeve, and before Cho could react, she stabbed her in the heart with it. The Chinese girl crumpled to the floor, a huge bloodstain rapidly forming on her kimono.

"Curse...you..." Cho choked out as blood frothed between her teeth. She tried to grab Ginny by the throat, but it was too late. With one last furious gurgle, she expired.

Ginny fought to stay on her feet, and stumbled towards the door. She had to act fast before the poison killed her – she had to find Harry and put right what she had done.

*****

Harry stumbled along like a drunken man, not caring where he was going. His heart was shattered into a thousand pieces. How could this have happened? How could he have been so blind and naive? Tears pricked at his eyes as Hermione's betrayal flayed at his soul.

"Harry-sama! Harry-sama!" A voice was calling his name, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered any more.

"Harry-sama! Harry-sa.." The voice insistently calling from behind him cut off into a fit of pain-wracked choking, and Harry looked round, surprised to see Ginny falling to her knees in the road, blood spraying as she coughed and wheezed.

"Ginny? What's wrong?" Instinct taking over, he rushed to support her. "Kami-sama! You need a healer!"

"No, it's too late...Harry-sama, Hermione still loves you! It was me in disguise saying all those things about her and Malfoy laughing at you!"

"What?!" Harry's heart lurched. "Why?"

"Because I love you, Harry-sama!" Ginny cried. Her crimson hair fell over her face as she hung limp in Harry's arms. "I made a pact with Cho to tear you and Hermione apart...I know, it was terrible of me. She posed as you using Polyjuice Potion and told Hermione you hated her so that she would go to Malfoy...then she poisoned me, but I stabbed her and came to warn you." Another coughing spasm tore through Ginny's body. "I am already dead...I just wanted to set things right. If I can't have you...you should be with the one you truly love."

"Where is she?" Harry demanded furiously.

"She went to join Malfoy, he asked her to go away with him. He's hiding out down at the old temple by the river, near South Gate." Ginny coughed yet again, more weakly this time. With her last strength she lifted her arms to embrace Harry. "I'm so sorry, Harry-sama...I'm a terrible person."

"No, it's all right," Harry reassured her, unable to bring himself to be angry with a woman dying in obvious agony. "Thank you for telling me."

"Harry-sama..." With her last wheezing breath, Ginny brought her face up to clumsily kiss him, leaving a trail of blood across his lips. A small smile on her face, she fell limp again, her eyes closing forever.

Harry lifted her slight body easily and rushed back to the Geisha house. The place was already in an uproar, as Cho's bloodstained body had been found in her room. Briefly explaining things to a grief-stricken Molly, Harry hurried away in the direction of the temple Ginny had told him about. He couldn't allow Draco Malfoy to make off with Hermione – despite Hermione's words earlier, he still suspected Malfoy had deceived and seduced her. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. If he had to fight Malfoy again to save Hermione, that was fine with him.

*****

It had taken Hermione a long time to find the temple, and she was cold, tired and scared – there were a lot of shady-looking people wandering around the area. At last, however, she found herself stepping across the derelict temple's front porch, looking around warily. She was afraid to call Draco's name in case someone outside heard.

"Hermione?" She jumped as a familiar voice sounded behind her. She turned to see Draco drop lightly down from the ceiling. He approached her slowly, an expression of wonder on his pale face. "You came," he breathed in amazement, gently touching her cheek as if to reassure himself that she was really there.

"Draco..." Bursting into fresh tears, Hermione threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder and sobbing. He tenderly patted her back and smoothed her disarranged hair until she had composed herself, then sat them both down.

She poured out her story in a flood of words, trying to get it out as quickly as possible. After Harry's terrible words earlier, she was frightened of what Draco might say or do, but he listened without comment until she had finished.

"Potter's an idiot," he said decisively, when she had completed the story. "How could he let you go so easily?" He caressed her hair again as he spoke, and Hermione leaned gratefully into his warm touch.

"Then...you don't hate me?" she asked tentatively.

"What? Of course not!" Draco exclaimed in shock. "Question your taste, maybe, but I could never hate you. Besides, it's not like I ever made any claim on you or gave you any cause to love me. It still amazes me that you could care for someone like me."

"Oh, Draco..." Hermione embraced her lover gratefully, hugging him tightly with all the love and affection she could muster to try to make up for all that he had been deprived of. He returned the gesture, wrapping her in his hard, strong arms. His face as he lowered it to kiss her was more beautiful than it had ever seemed before, shining as it was with love and tenderness instead of blank and cold, his spun-gold hair framing it like a halo.

"Come on, let's get inside" Draco said affectionately as she caught her breath back and uncurled her toes after his kiss. "I've managed to put together quite the cosy little hideout. We'll get the hell out of this city as soon as it gets dark."

True to his word, he had set up a small stove in the temple's basement, which warmed and illuminated a small partitioned room where he had arranged a nest of blankets to sleep in. It was warm and comforting, like being in a womb, and Hermione minded not one jot that the small size of the space forced them to snuggle together closely. Indeed, one thing swiftly led to another, and they were soon slipping out of their clothes and making love slowly and gently to pass the time until they could escape to their new life.

"I love you so much, Draco," Hermione murmured happily as they lay in each other's arms.

"I never thought I could hear those words except in my dreams, my darling," Draco replied, his eyes shining with tears of joy.

**TO BE CONCLUDED!**

**A/N:** One more chapter to go! Please review and let me know your predictions/wishes for the conclusion! Should Hermione stick with Draco, or return to Harry when he catches up with them?


	6. Chapter 6: Never Give You Up

**Disclaimer:** Characters, concepts etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

**The Ninja, The Samurai and The Geisha**

**Chapter 6: Never Give You Up**

"So how does it all end?" asked Ginny, still wiping away tears of laughter as she laid down the latest issue of _The Quibbler_.

"I hate to think," said Hermione from the other side of the Burrow's kitchen table. Her expression had been growing steadily more thunderous as she read through the story that _The Quibbler_ had been publishing serially for the past five issues. "This is ridiculous, Luna! What possessed your father to print this libellous nonsense?"

"He said it was an intriguing allegorical retelling of recent events," Luna replied absently. The other two girls looked at her with raised eyebrows. "I think he might have been joking, though. Anyway, I think it's rather sweet."

Hermione groaned. "Luna, this story is utter tripe. None of the characters bear any real resemblance to the people they're named after, for one thing."

"You mean Malfoy isn't a ludicrously good-looking ninja who deep down just wants to be loved? You shock me!" Ginny stuck out her tongue at Hermione's furious glare.

"And that's another thing. Whoever wrote this obviously knows nothing about Japan beyond superficial stuff from films. It's a common misconception that geishas are prostitutes rather than entertainers, perpetuated by racist stereotypes left over from World War 2. I think the author has them confused with oiren, who were a type of courtesan during the Edo period. The portrayal of the geishas is just standard hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold romance novel nonsense, anyway."

"You seem to know an awful lot about this," Luna chimed in. "Have you been considering a change of career?" She winked.

Hermione ignored Luna's quip. "Anyway, I predict that this...this wailing, useless, chauvinistic male-fantasy female stereotype with my name will end up with Malfoy. The story is clearly using the tired, clichéd plot of a 'good girl' being torn between the safe 'nice guy' and the supposedly dangerous 'bad boy', who generally turns out not to be very bad at all in order to let the female readers have their naughty fantasies without getting too edgy or realistic. The author's been unsubtly pushing the notion that 'Hermione' gets more excited by 'Draco', even though he treats her appallingly for most of the story."

Ginny shook her head. "I thought that up till the last chapter. But I think the author's scrambling at the end to make 'Harry' more interesting. Besides, it wouldn't make for a very interesting last chapter if 'Hermione' just tells 'Harry' to get lost and runs off with 'Draco' like she's already planning to. Although I suppose the last chapter could just be lots more floridly described sex between the two of them."

"Oh, Merlin, don't get me started on that. Actually, I wonder if this story is deliberately written in such a silly way for some sort of joke?"

"It isn't," said Luna. "Daddy got some letters asking that, and the author was very upset. They threatened to stop writing if anyone else 'violated their right to self-expression'. So Daddy just stopped telling them about those letters."

"Who is the author, anyway?" asked Ginny. "I assume 'Firebreathing Ninja from Space' isn't a real name."

"We don't know. They only get in touch by owl, and never give their real name."

"So," said Ginny, "Hermione expects Draco to win, and I'm voting for Harry."

"No surprise there."

"Well, since I'm tragically deceased in the story, I shall have to settle for Harry at least having a happy ending. Unless you'd rather he somehow ended up with my murderess?"

"Merlin's beard! No-one had better show this to Cho, or she'll go berserk and probably sue someone."

"True. So Luna, which of us is right? I don't think I can wait for the next issue."

Luna pulled several sheets of paper from a folder and placed them on the table. "Actually, you're both wrong."

"Really? So what does happen?"

"Does she come to her senses and ditch them both for being condescending macho idiots?" asked Hermione eagerly.

"Oh, I know!" Ginny said. "'Harry' and 'Draco' realize that their burning hatred of each other is just a cover for an intense physical attraction, and go off together!"

"Ginny!" Hermione had turned bright red.

"What? You obviously haven't heard some of the gossip among the girls in my year."

"Still wrong," Luna smiled.

"Ah, I've got it. 'Harry' and 'Draco' kill each other simultaneously in a tragic final battle, leaving 'Hermione' alone. And then she probably kills herself in some highly dramatic way," Ginny added.

"I can think of worse fates," said Hermione darkly.

"No, that's not it either," said Luna. "Here, this is the draft for the final chapter." She passed the papers over to the other two.

"You read it first," Hermione said. "I'm almost afraid to find out now." She got up to refill her glass of pumpkin juice. Ginny read avidly through the manuscript, bursting out laughing a couple of times. Her eyes grew steadily wider as she read the final page.

"Well," she said when she had finished. "That's...different."

"What?" asked Hermione. "What happens?"

"I'm not sure you want to know."

"I can't not find out now. Give me that." Hermione took the manuscript and skimmed through it rapidly. Her jaw dropped. "What?! That's ridiculous! What a stupid copout!"

"I know! 'Hermione' marries 'Harry' but he also lets her have trysts with 'Draco' with his blessing? What happened to their violent mutual loathing?"

"That's explained," said Luna. "They come to understand each other during their final battle, and accept that Hermione truly loves both of them."

"That sounds a bit like my slash ending idea," noted Ginny. "Besides being completely stupid, of course. I'm rather disappointed now; maybe I should write this Firebreathing Ninja from Space an angry letter."

"Well, I quite liked the ending." said Luna firmly. "Everyone got what they wanted."

"Except me and Cho," Ginny noted.

"That's true. That part was very poignant, I thought."

"Shall we see if the boys have finished de-gnoming?" Hermione asked, getting up. "I think I'd rather forget I ever read that story."

"Do you think Harry would like it if I dressed up as a geisha?" Ginny mused as they made their way outside.

"Ginny..."

**YOU HAVE JUST BEEN**

**FIC ROLLED**

**THANK YOU FOR READING!**

**A/N:** Well, as you may have guessed while reading that little epilogue, this fic was written for a prank. A bunch of writers including myself got together to post fics that were deliberately written badly in a variety of ways, to test the hypothesis that many readers would be unable to tell the difference between such a story and a regular mediocre fic written with low levels of quality control and imagination. The common fanfic problems I chose to parody/exaggerate included:

-Overblown, melodramatic romance dialogue and situations

-The imposition of one or more highly clichéd plots (in this case the nice guy vs bad boy love triangle and the hooker with a heart) on a group of canon characters whether or not their personalities fit it, often (as in this fic) resulting in some or all of their original personalities being completely tossed aside

-An unimaginative AU setting (stereotyped feudal Japan in my case, though I could have picked something much more overused like generic medieval fantasy or a 21st century American high school)

-Overused fandom-specific assumptions/story elements that are popular with fans but strongly contradict canon (in this case, Draco being a suave sex god and abused woobie, and Cho being evil)

Writing a deliberately bad fic was alternately fun and painful, although I did feel bad for misusing JK Rowling's characters so blatantly (especially Hermione, who I turned into a really annoyingly weepy drip). Still, at least I gave some of them the chance to get their own back in the epilogue, as well as giving all you readers a chance to find out how the story ended (namely, badly). Don't feel too bad if you enjoyed the first five chapters; it just goes to show how easy it is to parody the average fanfic. Sayonara!

-The Artist Formerly Known As Firebreathing Ninja From Space


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